The Killer's Fake Bride (Possessive Dark Mafia)

The thought made my chest tighten, and a soft groan escaped my lips.

I looked back toward the house, not sure what I was going to do.

Lingering up near the doors was a single figure.

I scrambled to my feet. I couldn’t make out who it was from this distance, but the person didn’t move, only stood there watching me. I started toward him, and my heart rate doubled as I realized it was Matteo, standing with his arms crossed, wearing black shorts and a black tank top, his muscular arms and chest practically bulging. He stared at me as I approached, walking past the pool and up toward the back door.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“I guess not,” I said. “What about you?”

“I was lying awake in my bed when I heard a little mouse sneaking out into the hall.”

I bit my lip and cocked my head. “You’re listening for me now?”

“Always.”

I wanted to turn away from him and run. Maybe if I sprinted right then and headed into the woods, I could get away and leave all this behind.

But my hand drifted to my stomach where our baby was growing every day.

“What did the Don say?” I asked.

“There won’t be reparations,” he said. “But Colm knew that. It was a bullshit offer. He wants to save face.”

“He wants more war.”

He nodded slowly. “I think the war’s the only thing keeping him in power at this point. Your family can’t be happy with his leadership.”

I chewed on my lip, looked away. “If people are talking about it, they’re not saying it to me.”

“They wouldn’t. You’re his niece.” He stepped closer to me. “What can I do to help you, Sam?” His voice was strange, almost strangled.

“What do you mean?”

“This has to be hard. I can tell that you’re struggling. I want to help you, Sam. I want to help you sleep. I want to give you what you need.” He came closer, and I took a step back, heart racing wildly, eyes blinking quickly. “Tell me what you need, Sam.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You’ve given me a lot already.”

“It’s not enough though, is it? You need more.”

“Matteo,” I said, like I could ward him away by using his name.

But he kept coming. I stopped backing away and he closed in on me, a shark coming in for the kill, but instead of tearing me into tiny pieces, he put his hands on my hips and pulled me against him.

I collapsed into that embrace. I pressed my face against his chest then tilted my head up, looking into his eyes. He bent down and kissed me gently once, but I threw myself at him, suddenly intensely aware of the only thing that could make me feel anything but broken.

My tongue against his tongue, his lips soft and rough all at once. I let out a strangled moan as all my desire spilled into that kiss. My body tingled and buzzed, and I felt him pull me tighter, felt his cock stiffening between his legs. My nipples were hard, my pussy was wet, and I wanted more, more, everything he could give me. I wanted that first night again and so much more.

He pulled me into the house. He probably meant to get me upstairs, but we ended up on the couch instead. I pushed him down and he pulled me on top, his hands moving up my sweatshirt, then pulled it off and tossed it aside. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and his hands cupped my breasts, his tongue teasing my nipples, and I moaned into his ear, breathing hard, breathing wildly.

“This won’t change anything,” I said. “It doesn’t matter what we do. You don’t have to marry me.”

He kissed my neck then slid a hand down between my legs. “You think I want to marry you for the family?”

“I think you want to end the war.” I closed my eyes and gasped as he teased my clit. I leaned back, hands on his thighs. I loved the way his eyes stared at my breasts, at my hard, pink nipples, at the way they shook with every gasping breath.

I felt like a goddess, like sunlight. He ate me up with his eyes and I wanted him to keep staring, to drink me in and never let me go.

“I want that,” he said, still teasing, and pleasure blossomed wildly. “But I want you too.”

“Matteo,” I said. “Don’t tell me that if you don’t mean it.”

“You think I’d lie to you?” He glared at me and slid a finger deep inside. I gasped, back arching. “I won’t lie to you, Sam. Everyone else might feed you a bunch of bullshit, but not me.” He buried another finger in deeper. “I want you. I want your skin, your lips, your perfect tits, your gorgeous ass. I want this soaking wet pussy wrapped around my cock. I want you moaning. I want you shivering, shaking. I want you coming. I want you to say my name as I fuck you and I want you to look back at me as I fill you up, and I want you to know that every stroke is heaven, and every second I’m not inside of you is hell. I want all of you, Sam, every delicious inch of you.”